


Words That Hurt The Most

by dirtylittlegreasemonkey



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7116595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlegreasemonkey/pseuds/dirtylittlegreasemonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the morning of Aaron and Robert's wedding but as Robert gets ready, Andy arrives and it's clear there's been a big row between him and Robert. With tensions running high the previous night, Robert just can't shake off his past mistakes and Andy accuses Robert of marrying Aaron just to prove a point. Can the brothers ever get over their history?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words That Hurt The Most

Diane puts both hands on his shoulders. “Don’t you scrub up well?” she says, making eye contact with him in the full length mirror. She squeezes and then lets one of her hands go loose.

“I should think so,” Robert says, trying to even out the knot of his tie. It’s a deep, plummy burgundy colour. His fingers are shaking, something he’s put down to a lack of sleep. “The suit cost enough.”

“Now then, I don’t think the price tag of your clothes is going to be at the forefront of people’s mind’s today now, is it?”

“No, I guess not,” he says, giving up on the tie and smiling at Diane. His arms fall down by his side and then he’s pressing his hands together, wringing out the tension. He finds himself touching the bare strip of skin on his ring finger and expecting to find a warm band of metal there. He hasn’t felt that for a while and it jars him to realise he was expecting it to be there. Of course, it makes sense eventually. It’ll be there again soon. A different band.

“How are you feeling?” she asks and he can tell she’s been wanting to say that for the last ten minutes. She’s been counting the pauses and saying stupid things about some crisis Victoria’s having over shoes, but he could hear it in every breath. He’s just hoping she doesn’t start with the ‘proud’ routine, talking about his dad and all the rest because he hasn’t got space in his head for it and the energy to block it out. “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?” he says, scoffing. He rolls his neck to loosen the collar. He does look good; he’ll admit it. He knows making a joke out of his nerves won’t get Diane off his back, but it’s worth a shot. “Marrying into that family, can you blame me? I’m surprised they don’t have their own ritual for it. Bathing in pig’s muck.”

He can hear her now, taking a breath ready with the lecture – has he forgotten his roots? He hasn’t but his point is the same, Dingles are a different breed of farmers. Dodgy. Inbred. But he’s saved from the conversation and too many thoughts on what the infamous Jack Sugden would think because there’s a gentle knock at the door.

It’s Andy, knuckles first. As usual. He hovers in the doorway of the BnB bedroom which Robert has been holed up in for the night. Eric let him have it half price because Diane gave him The Look. Andy has that expression in his face, the one that always garners sympathy from everyone but Robert only rolls his eyes, returning back to the mirror.

“Can I have a word?” Andy uses that gentle, tip-toe voice. He’s got a suit on and someone – he’s going to guess at Vic – has given him a buttonhole. He was only meant to be a guest in the first place. Now he’s not even supposed to be that. 

“Have two-”

“Rob…”

Diane doesn’t move during the exchange, doesn’t sigh or act surprised or dismayed that they’re here again on this page. She’s probably just thankful neither of them have got a black eye. Andy would’ve had one, if he hadn’t ducked.

“What are you all dressed up for? You got somewhere to be?” Robert says.

“I wanted…I thought…”

“You think after everything you said yesterday that you’d be welcome?”

“What is _wrong_ with the pair of you?” Diane says, finally snapping. She throws up her hands and the feathers on her fascinator tickle the bridge of her nose. Ordinarily he’d laugh, but he can’t, he can’t think of anything else but punching Andy. And he can’t do that either. Aaron would kill him. Even if he knew why, Aaron would kill him.

“Ask him!” Robert says, turning round and pointing. He can hear how it sounds to her, how repetitive and childish. He can feel his dad in the room rolling his eyes and wanting them to sort this once and for all.

“I’m sorry, alright?” Andy says.

“Sorry!” Robert repeats back to him, dripping with sarcasm. “Have you told her what you said? No, ‘course you haven’t. Couldn’t let her see you without that halo!”

Diane presses her hands over her face and shudders with anger. “You can’t leave it for one day, can you?!”

“I’ll tell you why, Diane. I’ll tell you what he said to me, if he won’t.”

“You’re overreacting,” Andy says having now fully planted himself into the room and closed the door.

“Am I?”

*

The pub had an eerie quiet to it, like Charity had gone off on one about something with Emma Barton and kicked out half the punters, but in truth it was just an uneventful Friday evening. It made his sitting alone at the bar look slightly more pathetic than it might have done normally, but he had no reason to be miserable about it. He was waiting on Vic to finish the last of the dinner orders and then he’d promised her a glass of wine or two. He was pretty sure she had invited Andy to meet them later on but he was intending to make his excuses to leave by then. He wasn’t in the mood to burden himself with the effort of thinking up ways to belittle Andy’s relationship with Chrissie. The jokes wrote themselves most of the time, but he had his mind on Aaron and the niggling thoughts that weeded up around his own anxieties – the fear that Aaron might just change his mind. He took out his phone and sent him a text.

_Having fun?_

Aaron, of course, was having a night out with Adam.

“It’s not a Stag,” he’d said. “We’re just going out for a few pints.”

“That’s what you think!” Adam had said, practically jumping on Aaron and flicking his ear like they were apes at a zoo. God, he hated sharing an office with the two of them.

Aaron sent back a photo of empty beer bottles and a thumbs up emoji and Robert tried his hardest not to give into the envy that prickled at him. He thought about finishing his pint and heading back to the BnB, giving Vic an excuse about a headache. He wasn’t even sure why they were bothering with this tradition of not seeing each other the night before the wedding but maybe they needed all the help they could get. Superstitions and all.

Another text from Aaron. He must have been drunk; he never normally texted as frequently.

A love heart, a wedding ring and then, an Australian flag.

_Soz. Finger slipped._

_You want to go down under? ;)_

_??_

_Never mind x_   

Charity sidled over, sliding a fresh pint in front of him. “Oh yeah, no prizes for guessing who those messages are from. Unless you’ve got another one on the go. Man, woman. Who can say!”

“Not that it’s any of your business, Charity, but they’re from Aaron.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said and then with her hands on her hips, nodded at the pint. “On me,” she said. “Once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Oh yeah? Poisoned it, have you?”

“Think of it as a peace offering. A ‘Welcome to the Family’ sort of drink.”

“Well thanks very much,” Robert said, taking a foamy sip. “But just so you know - I’ll never be a Dingle.”

“He’s got you checking your phone every five minutes, I think it’s safe to say he’s wearing the trousers in this little union, don’t you?” Charity wiggled her two fingers together and then her brow crumpled as if she’d just realised what her two fingers wriggling might look like.

“We both wear the trousers.”

“I bet!” Charity said, widening her eyes and leaving him to his new pint.

It was then that Andy arrived in the pub, alone thankfully, and headed straight towards Robert. They were on speaking terms currently, so much so that Robert had even invited him to the wedding. Well, Aaron had invited him – Robert just hadn’t uninvited him.

“Alright?” Andy said, touching Robert on the arm. “You on your own?”

Robert shrugged and didn’t protest when Andy took up on the adjacent stool. He wasn’t exactly inundated with mates, the fact he was waiting on his kid sister for company said it all.

“You want a pint?”

“I was going to ask you the same,” Andy said. “But you look like you’re set.”

“Perks of marrying a Dingle, apparently. Free drink,” Robert said, raising his glass in Charity’s direction.

Andy laughed and then ordered the same. There was a bristling moment of silence between them where Andy toyed with the beer mat and Robert took another mouthful of beer.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” Andy asked.

“It’s Hotten Town Hall, it doesn’t really need much preparation,” Robert said, his eyes wandering behind the bar and to the door leading out to the kitchen. “Although don’t ask me what Vic’s got planned, I don’t want to know.”

“And Aaron, is he…?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Robert said. “You know Aaron. I can’t tell if he’s overjoyed or ready to run a mile.”

“I still can’t work out what’s weirder,” Andy said, taking his pint from Charity and then gesturing to Robert that they head over to a table by the door. “Him getting married or you.”

“What do you mean?”

The door to the pub opened and the woman from the café, Brenda, walked in. She caught Robert’s eye and seemed to remind herself about the wedding with a small raise of the hand and even though at times he openly couldn’t remember her name, she paused at the table as she passed.

“Best of luck for tomorrow,” she said, touching his hand with a small dabbing motion.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding. “We’re having a few drinks in here tomorrow evening. You’re welcome to join us if you like.” He wasn’t sure why he invited her but the delight in Brenda’s face and Andy’s ruffled posture reminded him. He liked unnerving people, acting in surprising ways. Ever since he had got together with Aaron, he’d become a bigger part of the community – people didn’t even seem to hate him as much. He bet Andy couldn’t stand it. Robert sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest.

“You know it’s him they’re happy for, not you, don’t you?”

“And? He’s marrying me,” Robert said.

“Yeah and more fool him.” Andy said it, half under his breath. Robert considered the energy it would take to summon a fight but folded, just as his phone flashed with a text. It was on the table and close enough for Andy to see too.  

An Australian flag and a winky face. Robert laughed to himself, stopping when he caught Andy’s eye. It felt as if Andy were studying him. It had always felt that way – waiting for him to fuck up – but ever since he’d been outed, it seemed like there was always something Andy was thinking but never saying.

Chrissie and Lawrence chose this moment to enter the pub and Robert saw her hesitate when she saw him but concede to nodding in his general direction and smiling at Andy. It made a change from them being all over each other, although he had started a private bet with himself about how long they’d last.

“No cheap digs,” Robert said, looking over at her getting comfortable in a booth away from theirs. “I am surprised.”

“Will you give it a rest?” Andy said.

“I will when her and her psycho family stop giving me death glares in the street.”

“I think it’s about time for everyone to move on, don’t you?”

Robert took a gulp of beer to silence himself, trying to keep his eye rolling to a minimum. In the end, he couldn’t stop himself. “How is life pretending to be Lord of the Manor treating you, anyway?”

Andy scoffed. “I’m the one pretending?”

There was a certain derision in Andy’s voice that made Robert sit more upright in his seat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You!” Andy said, looking him up and down. “Claiming you’re this brand new man. Upstanding member of the community, having this…big gay wedding.”

Robert grew cold. He took a look at Andy leaning in, the old farmer’s coat thrown over a designer shirt Chrissie had obviously bought him.

“What? You think this is all an act?”

“You’ll get bored eventually, you always do. I just feel sorry for Aaron for getting dragged into your games, that’s all,” Andy said.

“I can’t believe this!”

“Oh grow up, Robert!” Andy said. “No one else is going to say it, so I will. How long is this really going to last, eh? You want to play the big man and ruffle a few feathers. It’s always one thing after another with you. It’s like a challenge. First it’s my wife, then it’s a rich sugar mummy and then it’s your next phase. A bloke.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Robert said. His blood pounded. Anger swelled above all other emotions and he could see Andy’s resolve crippling under the rage of Robert’s reaction across the table. “I knew you had a low opinion of me, but this?”

“Everyone’s thinking it.”

“That lot over there might be,” Robert said, gesturing to the Whites. “They might be stuck in this bitter world with their freak ideas of relationships but this is the real deal for me. You’ve spent too much time with them, Andy. You haven’t got a clue.”

“No. No one ever does with you,” Andy said. “It’s always an act.”

Robert stood and the full force of it sent his pint spilling onto the table. He lurched forward aiming his fist at Andy and when he missed, he grabbed the lapels of his coat, shoving him backwards and not caring who was around to see it. He couldn’t speak; no one got to him like Andy did. With his leg wet with spilt beer and his throat tight, Robert picked up his jacket and walked out onto Main Street.

His phone began buzzing in his pocket and he answered, swallowing what felt like a fist in his throat. The sounds of a busy bar made the other end of the call sound tinny. He heard lots of voices and then Aaron’s in the background, shushing and then laughing. Robert used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes and then smiled, hearing Aaron finally speak to him, his voice pleasantly slurred.

“Are you having a nice night?” Aaron asked, the vowels of his words long and blurred.

“Better now I’m talking to you.”

“Is this breaking the rules?” he asked and then louder. “Fuck off, Adam.”

“No, I think this is okay,” Robert said, leaning against the back wall of the pub, opposite the car park.

“Adam says hi.”

“Is he looking after you?”

“He says if you ever hurt me he’s…”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“I know. I know. S’what I told him.”

“Good.”

There’s a lot more noise and a change of song. Robert can hear Adam’s voice loud and clear and he sounds much more drunk than Aaron does. He doesn’t know if Aaron’s still there or if he’s even still listening but it seems important, more important than ever.

“I really love you, you know,” Robert said. “I always will.”

“Stuck with me now.”

“As long as you know you’re stuck with me too.”

“Mr Dingle.”

“No.”

Aaron laughs on the other end, deep and loud and throaty. “Just kidding.”

“Mr Sugden.”

“I’ll…think about it,” Aaron says. Robert can picture him, blinking away the booze. He hears Adam start shouting about tequila and Aaron trying to quieten him down. “I’ll see you tomorrow. In the morning.”

“Hungover.”

“But happy.”

“I love you.”

“Love you n’all.”

Just before he hung up, Robert heard Adam shout something into the phone about strippers but the laughter made it unintelligible. He walked back to the BnB, his eyes still wet, his chest still tight.

*

Diane thought it better if they talked it out alone. Life’s too short she’d said and so here they are again, face to face before a wedding trying to get over a past that’s stuck on repeat. There’s a circular table by the window and Robert sits down at it. He sat here last night, thinking about the past, the future. His vows. He shouldn’t have left the vows until the night before, but his head was somehow clearer. Perhaps he still had more to prove.

“I really am sorry,” Andy says, staying at a safe distance. “I was out of order.”

Robert stays silent, head bowed. He thumbs the fresh buttonhole that lays on the table, waiting for him to wear it.

“I should never have said all that.”

“But you meant it,” Robert says. “Didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Andy says, taking a step into the room and eyeing the chair opposite Robert. “I guess I was angry and everything came out wrong.”

“About what?” Robert asks, his words so sharp with pain they’re almost soundless.

“That you get to just reinvent yourself and get what you want all over again when…”

“Katie,” Robert says, head dropping. He bites back on his desire to tell Andy to move on, to leave their bitter history where it belongs. But he knows he has no right.

“And I’m trying,” Andy says, interrupting. “I’m trying to move on, from her, from…the accident. But you getting married again it’s just…brought it all back up.”

Robert drags a hand through his hair. How did they ever think they could get past this? How is her ghost still hanging between them?

“I’m not doing this to hurt you or to spite you, Andy. I’m trying to make amends. I’m always trying to make amends.” He hears his voice breaking, the pathetic flimsiness of it all. He doesn’t cry at weddings, but they always seem to hurt him somehow.

“I know,” Andy says.

The room chokes them both with silence. Time stills. Robert knows the rest of the family, Aaron’s family and friends will be driving themselves crazy with preparations, with the same tense anxieties he’s fuelled with. He half wishes it was already over, that they were two years in to this marriage and lying in bed on a Saturday morning pressed together.

“It’s not an act. Or a game. Or a phase,” Robert says.

“I never should’ve-“

“I know honesty isn’t exactly what I’m best at,” Robert says. “And I know you’ve never been really sure about who I am…I guess I haven’t either.”

“Look, Rob. What I said about Aaron-“

“I love him, alright? And I know it doesn’t make any sense to you and you don’t like talking about it because it makes you feel weird or whatever but-“ Robert breathes into his hands. “He means the world to me. Sometimes it’s scary how much.”

Andy shifts on his feet, looking down at the carpet and then flicking his gaze back to Robert intermittently. “What is it about him?” Andy asks after a long drought of conversation and then gives a quick shake of his head as if he has just realised what he’d asked. “I guess I’ve just…never asked you.”

“He’s a good guy,” Robert says, picking up the corsage so that he can divert his attention elsewhere and doesn’t have to look Andy in the eye. “He’s the bravest, most…” Robert drifts off, interrupting himself. “You want to hear this?”

Andy gestures with the tip of his head to say, yes he does.

“At first I just…he was this dark and brooding man. I knew I shouldn’t but… He was different and _difficult_. Spikey. And yes, I just wanted to get him into bed. The Robert you know. Well, sort of.”

“And when did you know you were into…?”

Robert finds himself with a half-smile. “Seriously? I’ve got a wedding in…an hour.”

Andy smirks, the relief escaping through a few rapid blinks. He approaches the table and leans on the chair opposite Robert. “He is a good guy,” Andy says. “And I suppose he’s a good looking bloke. He doesn’t do it for me, but whatever floats your boat.”

Robert smiles and looks at Andy, giving him the silent confirmation to sit down opposite him.

“I am really sorry,” Andy says, perching on the seat. “I do want you to be happy.”

Robert can barely look at him. He swallows. From the corner of his eye he sees Andy offering up his hand to shake.

“I am happy,” Robert says, his voice quivering and seeming to betray the statement. “And I want you to be too.” He shakes Andy’s hand, squeezing him tight before they both release and return to the cool, quiet of the room, gazes apart.

“You scrub up well,” Andy says after a while.

He smiles at Andy's words, an echo of an earlier conversation. “So do you. For a farm boy.”

Andy claps him on the arm. “Come on,” he says. “Don’t keep him waiting.”


End file.
